Forever My Duke--Unlikely Duchesses

by Olivia Drake

  “Thunder won’t bring a fraction o’ what I owe.”

  “Then make a vow to your father that you’ll stay away from the gaming tables in exchange for him settling your debts.”

  “Bah! The old man will only tighten the screws. I’ll never hear the end of it.” He stood swaying, a sly look appearing on his face. “Don’t suppose you’d spring me a few thousand, would you, old chap? Considering we’ll soon be brothers-in-law.”

  Wymark didn’t know that Hadrian’s intention to wed Lady Ellen was currently in limbo. Hadrian had informed Godwin after dinner that any betrothal must be put off for a few months in order to allow the girl sufficient time to overcome her shyness. To further complicate matters, the episode with Natalie had cast his once-ordered future into utter disarray. He needed time to think and consider. But his marital plans were too private a matter to discuss with his drunken cousin.

  “No loans,” he stated firmly. “It’s time for you to man up and find a way out of this mess yourself.”

  Glowering, Wymark trudged to the cabinet for another drink. The fool had been indulged by his mother, Hadrian knew, but perhaps this crisis would be the making of him. Suffering for a time might prove to be the best teacher.

  His cousin turned and cast a defiant, resentful scowl over the rim of his glass. “Not so high-and-mighty as you pretend,” he mumbled. “Only a cad would cheat on m’ sister.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Saw the way y’ looked at Miss Fanshawe. The earl might be keen to know you and her were so cozy here tonight. Of course, I might be persuaded to keep m’ mouth shut for—for the right price.”

  A powerfully hot vibration shook Hadrian’s core and exploded like a flow of lava. It was like nothing he’d ever felt in his life. Propelled by a red blast of rage, he strode forward to seize his scrawny cousin by his lapels and drag him up off his feet. “I wouldn’t advise you to try to blackmail me, Wymark.”

  “N-not blackmail, just—just a loan—”

  Hadrian tightened his grip until Wymark’s blue eyes bugged in alarm. By God, he would not allow this young pup to besmirch Natalie’s name. “Let me explain the terms of our bargain,” he said in his iciest tone. “You will not receive so much as a farthing from me. And you will bide your tongue in regard to Miss Fanshawe. Do I make myself clear?”

  Wymark gulped, apparently even in his drunken stupor recognizing the deadly intent on Hadrian’s face. “S-sorry, old chap. Didn’t mean no harm. M’ lips are—are sealed.”

  The cringing fear on those weak features was enough to penetrate the volcanic fury that had enveloped Hadrian’s brain. Loosening his grip, he thrust Wymark away in disgust. The youth wobbled backward, collapsing onto the settee, where he cowered like a chastened little boy.

  “I intend to hold you to that pledge,” Hadrian snapped.

  Turning on his heel, he strode out of the library. The sharp echo of his footsteps in the great hall served to work off his anger. As his mind resumed a semblance of its normal function, he mulled over the episode. Restraint had always guided his life and his actions. He’d prided himself on having firm mastery over his emotions. Yet tonight the foundation had tilted beneath him. Now, he detected an odd sense of exultation in himself that was unsettling, to say the least.

  It all had to do with Natalie.

  As he mounted the staircase, his thoughts swerved inevitably to her. To the memory of her trembling with passion in his arms. To the softness of her lips opening beneath his. To the taste of her skin and the arch of her spine, lifting her perfect breasts to his mouth. If not for that interruption, he would have pressed her down onto the settee and made love to her right there in the library.

  Reckless fool! He knew better than to treat respectable women so cavalierly. Even as a green youth, he hadn’t behaved so irresponsibly. It didn’t matter that she’d wanted to kiss him, too.

  As irksome as Wymark’s arrival had been, it had come at a fortuitous moment. Hadrian had always restricted his sexual affairs to experienced women. Despite Natalie’s worldly knowledge in other matters, there was an unmistakable innocence about her. The penalty of consummating their lust would have been grave.

  Or was it mere lust?

  No other woman had ever brought him to the point of abandoning all reason and logic. The rarefied world of the ton was filled with an endless array of English beauties who were drawn to his title and fortune in the hope of becoming the next Duchess of Clayton. It wasn’t a circumstance he’d encouraged or sought, it was simply a fact of life.

  Though a few had caught his eye over the years, he’d never found any lady who could engage his interest beyond a light flirtation. Nor had he realized until now that he desired more in a wife than just a pretty face and an exalted lineage. He craved wit and conversation, depth and intelligence, resilience and spirit, warmth and excitement.

  Natalie possessed all those qualities in abundance. Tonight, the thread of connection he’d sensed between them had tightened into a strong silken bond. He wanted to claim her, to protect her, to bind her to him forever. Yet duty required him to wed Lady Ellen or another blue blood like her. Not an ineligible American governess who scorned the aristocracy.

  Riveted by the direction of his thoughts, Hadrian came to an abrupt halt in the shadowed corridor outside his bedchamber. Was he truly considering marriage to Natalie Fanshawe?

  Sheer, utter madness.

  A man of his rank did not wed a woman so far beneath himself, let alone a foreigner. His pulse should not be surging at the prospect. She was an outsider who knew nothing of the myriad rules of the ton, and likely wouldn’t obey them anyway. All the snoots and chinwags would make her the topic of nasty gossip. Though he could silence them with a freezing stare, he was loath to pitch Natalie into the lion’s den of the haute ton.

  Of course, that was presuming she’d even consider becoming the Duchess of Clayton. He wasn’t so blindly arrogant as to think that one hot kiss would be enough to win a woman of her character. In fact, he had a strong suspicion that if he were to offer for her, she’d run screaming for the next ship back to America.

  He’d never see her again.

  His mind in a whirl, Hadrian braced his hands on the wall and stared fiercely down at the ivy-leaf pattern on the carpet. He’d embroiled himself in one hell of a sticky quagmire. And just when he’d believed that his future was as good as settled.

  Only one clear thought emerged from the vortex. It would take time to allay Natalie’s deep-seated disdain of the nobility. Somehow, he had to keep her in his life until they had a chance to see if they truly suited one another.

  That also meant keeping quiet about the change in his marital plans. She wouldn’t wish to be courted by a duke. So for now, he must keep it a closely guarded secret.

  Chapter 15

  “Oh, I wish it weren’t raining so hard,” Lady Ellen said on a sigh. “I was hoping to go for a walk in the woods.”

  “Rain makes mud,” Leo replied. “I like mud, but Miss Fanshawe won’t let me play in it.”

  Standing side by side, they had their noses pressed to the window of the nursery as they watched the slide of raindrops down the glass panes. Lady Ellen had wandered into the schoolroom a short while ago just as Natalie and Leo were finishing their luncheon. Now, both aunt and nephew commiserated over the dreary state of the weather.

  Observing them from her seat at the governess’s desk, Natalie found it difficult to focus on the task of organizing the next day’s lessons for Leo. She lacked the concentration even to assign the boy his afternoon reading lesson. At least the gray skies served as a damper to her buoyant mood. After the passionate interlude with Hadrian the previous night, she’d had trouble keeping her feet planted firmly on the ground.

  Twirling her quill pen, she swept the feather along her jawline. The absentminded action brought a reminder of his thrilling kisses. He had unbuttoned her nightdress, caressed her bare bosom, closed his mouth over one peak—and she had loved every s
candalous moment of it. The provocative memory stirred a bone-deep longing to experience it all over again.

  But that was impossible. No decent woman behaved with such abandon, especially with a nobleman. It could only bring her to ruin.

  Sighing, Natalie dipped the nib of her pen into the ink pot. Instead of composing simple addition and subtraction problems, however, she found herself doodling two entwined hearts on the paper. She’d gone to sleep dreaming of Hadrian and had awakened this morning to the quandary of being infatuated with a duke who belonged to the nobility that she despised.

  Well, perhaps despised was too strong a word. Since arriving in England, she had discovered that like people in all walks of life, there were decent aristocrats along with the bad ones. For instance, while Lady Ellen had a kind and generous nature, her brother, Lord Wymark, was a drunken lout.

  How mortifying that he’d nearly caught her in Hadrian’s embrace. The memory of his sly stare made Natalie’s skin crawl. There was something about Wymark that made her uneasy, something she didn’t quite trust. But as embarrassing as it had been, she was glad he’d arrived when he did.

  If not for that interruption, she’d have allowed Hadrian more liberties. Never had she known that desire could erase the ability to think rationally. Now, in the light of day, she knew it had been a mistake to linger in his company. A mistake to deepen their closeness by confessing her secrets. A mistake to engage in intimate activities that belonged between husband and wife. There could never be anything lasting between them. Her life was in America, where she planned to open a school.

  A trill of laughter drew her attention back to Leo and his aunt. They appeared to be having a good-natured quarrel over which raindrop would slide faster down the windowpane. The girl looked like a perfect English rose today, blond and petite in a blush-pink gown.

  Abandoning all pretense of work, Natalie set down her pen and rested her chin in her hands. It was time to face the most discomfiting aspect of her behavior the previous night. Not once had she spared a thought for Lady Ellen.

  Natalie had known that Hadrian was courting the girl. For that reason alone, it was wrong of her to have acted as she did, and wrong of Hadrian, too. They had both been swept away by the moment. His caresses had awakened a hunger in her that continued to entice her thoughts and feelings. But it mustn’t ever happen again. Lady Ellen might be skittish now, yet once she danced with him at society balls, how could she help but fall for his charm?

  A cloak of gloom stifled Natalie’s spirits. She pressed a hand to her bosom in an effort to allay the heaviness in her heart. Surely it couldn’t be envy. She had no interest in the rarefied world of the upper crust. Besides, Hadrian would never offer her marriage—nor would she accept him if he did.

  Dallying with a duke could only lead to misfortune and disgrace. As much as it pained her, she really had no choice but to avoid his company in the future.

  It was Leo she must focus on. With Lord Godwin’s lawyer due to arrive any day, she needed to treasure the precious time that she had left with the boy. It would break her heart to say good-bye to Audrey’s son, for she had grown to love him as dearly as if he were her own child.

  Just then, he and Lady Ellen joined hands and danced around in a circle, while he sang, “Rain, rain, go away, come again another day.”

  “Little Leo wants to play,” Lady Ellen chimed in. “Rain, rain, go to Spain. Never show your face again.”

  Giggling, they collapsed together on the wood floor. There was still much of the child in the girl, Natalie noticed. By this time next year, would Lady Ellen be a wife with a baby on the way? Would she be Hadrian’s wife?

  Natalie drew in a deep breath. She should be glad, for perhaps the two of them would be agreeable to keeping an eye out for Leo’s well-being …

  The boy looked up at his aunt. “Why should the rain go to Spain?”

  “I don’t know,” Lady Ellen said. “I suppose because the words rhyme.”

  The teacher in Natalie demanded a correction to that. “Actually,” she said, arising from the desk to join them, “the song celebrates the British navy defeating the Spanish Armada over two hundred years ago.”

  “What’s an armada?” Leo asked.

  “It’s a very large fleet of ships. The Spanish were the rulers of the sea at the time.” Natalie pointed out the location of the countries on the globe. “Spain wanted to conquer England, so they sent over a hundred galleons outfitted with cannons. The British had a much smaller fleet. But a terrible storm blew up and scattered the Spanish Armada, sinking many of the galleons so England could easily defeat the rest.”

  Leo listened with rapt attention. “When I grow up, I want to fight the Spanish Armada. I’ll be the captain and order my sailors to fire the cannons. Boom!”

  “You can be Admiral Bellingham,” Lady Ellen declared. “Then you would command the entire fleet.”

  “Admiral Bellingham,” Leo repeated as if cherishing the title. He fetched his toy ship, making it sail over imaginary waves along the windowsill.

  Watching him, Natalie wondered wistfully what sort of man he would become someday, and if she would ever even know. Impulsively, she turned to Lady Ellen and took her dainty hands. “I do hope that when I leave here, you’ll write to me and let me know how Leo is doing.”

  “Leave?” the girl asked naïvely. “But why can’t you stay?”

  Natalie drew back her hands. “My home is in America. I plan to found a school in Philadelphia. I’m here only until the earl’s solicitor arrives, and they can sort out all the legalities in regard to Leo.”

  Natalie’s troubled gaze lingered on the boy before a tug on her arm pulled her attention back to Lady Ellen. Her china-blue eyes were wide with surprise.

  “But Miss Fanshawe, he is here! Mr. Musgrave, I mean. He arrived in time to take luncheon with us.”

  “The solicitor?”

  “Yes, he and Papa went into his study a little while ago.”

  A knell of alarm struck Natalie’s breast. While she’d been mooning over Hadrian, the moment she’d dreaded had finally arrived.

  “I must go.” Smoothing her hair, she regretted having worn this old cinnamon muslin gown instead of her best plum silk. But there was no time to waste in refurbishing her appearance. “Will you stay here with Leo until the nursery maid returns?”

  “Certainly. I ran up here when I saw the duke coming my way.” Lady Ellen wrinkled her nose. “I was afraid I’d be stuck playing cards with him or walking in the picture gallery. But where are you going?”

  “I wish to hear what Mr. Musgrave has to say.”

  “You mustn’t! Papa doesn’t like to be interrupted in his study.”

  “He shall have to endure my presence this once.”

  On that bold declaration, Natalie rushed out of the schoolroom and down several flights of stairs to the ground floor. She remembered noticing the location of Godwin’s study when Hadrian had taken her and Leo on a tour. It overlooked the gardens at the rear of the house.

  When she arrived there, the door was closed. She put her ear to the panel, but the wood was too thick for her to hear anything more than the muffled sound of male voices. They seemed sharp and upraised, lending the impression of a dispute in progress.

  Lifting her hand to knock, she paused, beset by sudden qualms. Having spent most of her time in the nursery, she had not encountered Lord Godwin since her first day here, when he had glowered at her with chilly dislike. What if she angered him and he banished her from the house at once? What if he didn’t even allow her to stay with Leo until another governess could be hired?

  The day of parting would be upon her. Today. Without any time to prepare Leo … or herself.

  She swallowed hard. No, that wouldn’t happen. She need only remain calm, reasonable, and respectful. If she could mediate political clashes between opposing senators at her father’s dining table, then she certainly could handle one haughty English earl.

  Natalie rapped on the door.
A moment later, it swung open. Her pulse did a wild dance as she found herself facing Hadrian.

  The Duke of Clayton, she revised, for in his snowy cravat and tailored coat of dark blue superfine, he appeared every inch the English nobleman. No trace remained of the charming lover of the previous night. His tousled brown hair was now neatly combed, his raspy jaw shaven to perfect smoothness, his warm affability exchanged for his signature expression of cool hauteur.

  For the barest instant, she glimpsed a softening of his gaze, then decided it must have been a trick of the rainy daylight. The granite intensity of his eyes gave no hint whatsoever that he was pleased to see her. Quite the contrary, in fact, judging by his frown. Had their passionate kiss meant so little to him?

  She buried the knot of disappointment inside herself. Well, of course the encounter had been nothing special to Hadrian. He was no doubt accustomed to fondling women in the dark of night. And let that be a lesson to her. When it came to dukes, it served no purpose to dream.

  He gave her a slight bow, his manner reserved. “Miss Fanshawe. I’m afraid you’ve interrupted a private meeting. You’d best come back later.”

  Glancing past him, she had a partial view of the study. Lord Godwin sat behind a broad mahogany desk, while on the other side of it, a stranger occupied one of the two chairs. Papers littered the surface of the desk.

  Natalie lifted her chin, glad that she was not a petite, well-bred English miss who would retreat in cowed defeat. “If this is about Leo, I daresay I’ve every reason to be here.”

  As she stepped past Hadrian and entered the room, Lord Godwin’s steely blue stare bored into Natalie. He bristled with annoyance, and she again had the uncanny sense of having interrupted a quarrel. “Why are you here?” he demanded. “You should be upstairs in the nursery with the boy.”

  “It’s because of Leo that I’m here, of course.”

  “Actually, her arrival is quite timely,” Hadrian said, in a smooth reversal of his initial attempt to refuse her entry. “I was about to suggest that we send for her. After all, it’s imprudent for us to speculate any further when we could ask her to provide the necessary clarifications.”